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The party went on into the night. By then, his burnt hand was stinging, but he had to keep the glove on over it, at least for a little longer.
He considered going to visit Elizaveta and try and congratulate her -I love you so much- but decided against it as well. He didn't need her face to guilt him out of the plan he wielded. Summoned unbidden, the green-eyed image floated in his mind, and he blinked her face away. He had a job to get to.
Against his will, her face floated back up to him, and he sighed. I might as well. He veered towards the cheerful crowd around the Austrian, snagging a glass of champagne on the way. He was just in time; the other's friends were proposing a toast. "To your happy marriage!" one man crowed, and the glasses were raised high. Another man, a blond with long hair added "And to your lovely new wife's magnifique pair of-"
The albino was there, suddenly, gloved hand clamped over the other's mouth. When the others turned to give him looks of astonishment, he offered a close-lipped smile and raised his glass, almost sarcastically. He would not tolerate these innuendos towards her. She was an angel, perfekt. A beautiful, alluring, frying-pan wielding angel. She did not deserve to be talked about this way.
Before releasing his grip, he tilted his glove up to the right angle, letting a small stream of cantarella flow from its niche just above the pad of his thumb into the other's drink. You do not deserve to live. He returned the blond's drink with a false smile. ''A toast."
Still a bit distrustful, the blond clinked his glass against the others, amber liquid sparkling in the lamplight. He would die soon.
The albino swallowed half the contents in one go. It was good champagne.
Roderich looked ready to go up to his wife. It was late. Even Gilbert, a frequent partier, was getting tired. The Austrian discreetly made his goodbyes and headed for the hall.
Now is the time to act. Gilbert veered towards him, glass in hand. Hearing his footsteps, the brunette turned around. "Oh, it's you." Roderich said flatly. 'What do you want?''
The albino pressed his hand to his heart. "You wound me. I just wanted to give the two of you my best wishes." His voice dropped to a more serious level. "Treat her right.''
The other nodded, and then a superior smirk came onto his face. "You know she doesn't mention you anymore. And when she begins to, it's always negatively."
Inside his gloves, he clenched his fists. He tried to play it off. "Yeah, sure, kick me when I'm down." However, his voice lacked its usual sarcasm. On the inside, the albino was a boiling pool of rage. He was services away from lashing out at the arrogant, unawesome man. Instead, he sighed.
"She will never willingly take you,"said the Austrian smugly.
"Whatever you say, Roderich." He really didn't want to have this conversation right now.
The brunette walked down the halls, bathed in shadow the further he got from the bright lights of the festivities. Silent as a ninja, Gilbert credit after him, reaching into an inside pocket in his trousers. Oblivious, the Austrian walked on, until he came to a place where the lamps were out. It was pitch black, dark marble floor perfectly colored to hide any stray drops of blood. The steady footsteps slowed, hesitating just for a moment with that human instinct, beware the dark, and that was when Gilbert struck.